


{ON HIATUS} Slipping Through the Cracks of a Dark Eternity

by KonKon38



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky is sad, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Steve is sad, aou didnt happen, background Clintasha, bucky's memory notebooks, despite what the title suggests this isn't that dark, domestic fun times, everyone is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KonKon38/pseuds/KonKon38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{ON HIATUS} <br/>Bucky is quiet when he first shows up at Steve’s apartment in D.C. he doesn’t do much of anything except write in composition books. Steve has no clue what Bucky is writing and despite his curiosity, he doesn’t ask. What Steve doesn’t know is that Bucky is writing down the things that are most important to him, his memories. {ON HIATUS}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the english version of a song called "Bad Apple". It's a good song and it reminds me a lot of Bucky. You should listen to it. This was inspired by Sebastian's response to someone on instagram about what Bucky keeps in his backpack. 
> 
> HOW TO READ BUCKY'S JOURNAL:  
> Bold is what Bucky is certain of.  
> Italics is what he’s unsure of  
> Normal font is just his thoughts, observations, etc~

"Am I hurting? Am I sad? Should I stay, or should I go?

I've forgotten how to tell. Did I ever even know?”

-“Bad Apple” 

* * *

 

Bucky thinks that perhaps he shouldn’t be here. After everything he’s done, after all the pain he’s caused, why would Steve even let him stay? He knows that it hurts Steve that Bucky doesn’t responds when he speaks to him, he know that his general presence causes Steve pain. He can see it when Steve looks at him, when Steve thinks he isn’t looking at him, and especially when Steve thinks Bucky isn’t around and he cries. Except, he should really know better, because Bucky is always around. He hasn’t left since he got here. Bucky had to be here, it was the only place he felt safe. He knows he is probably being selfish because he is hurting Steve so much but his guilt doesn’t override his urge to stay here, so he does. 

 

Steve doesn’t do much, he doesn’t have much to do regardless. After the collapse of SHIELD he tracked down almost every HYDRA base and destroyed it. Just like the good old days, except he didn’t have the howl commandos, it was mostly just Sam and Natasha. These days, it was harder to find what fewer HYDRA organizations there were left, so Steve stays home most of the time. Bucky thought Steve probably wouldn’t leave anyway unless he had to do something incredibly important, because he seems to want to stick around Bucky a lot. Not that Bucky really minded. 

 

What Steve does do is art. A lot of it, in fact. Bucky knew that Steve used to draw but now he had access to so many more materials. Steve especially liked to paint, and he was incredible at it. Bucky had noticed that when Steve does draw, he mostly draws him. He thought that maybe it had always been that way. He frowned and picked up his journal to write in it:

 

**Steve likes to draw.**

 

_ Steve used to draw me a lot, before the war? _

 

 

He shut his journal and put it back beside him on the couch. This isn’t the same apartment he shot Nick Fury in, and he knows that’s probably a good thing. He looks over at Steve, who was sitting on the couch beside him, when he laughs at something on the TV he was watching. He smiles slightly, he likes it when Steve laughs. Something about it enthralled him… it made him feel happy? He wasn’t completely sure it was happy but he’d go with it. He picked up his journal again to write:

 

**I like it when Steve laughs.**

I like it when Steve laughs, but I don’t know what it makes me feel. _Is it happiness?_

 

He shuts it again, and sighs. That makes Steve look at him, and Bucky makes a point to look in the opposite direction. He wished that he could make Steve laugh, he probably could, if he actually spoke to him. In the two weeks he had been here, he still didn’t feel like speaking. For a lot of reasons.  

 

“Are you hungry? I was thinking about ordering pizza.” Steve broke him out of his thoughts. He stared at him for a second and shrugged. He wasn’t not hungry. 

 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Is pepperoni alright with you?” Steve asked as he pulled out his phone. He wasn’t used to be abled to make decisions, and ever since he got here Steve had given him so many chances to do so. It gave Bucky unnecessary amounts of anxiety, but he really appreciated it. Steve actually cared what he thought, it had been awhile since anyone had. Bucky nodded.

 

“Okay.” Steve smiled at him and proceeded to call in their order. 

 

Bucky watched Steve carefully. He really wasn’t interested in what was on the TV, not that he had even given it a chance. He spent most of his time thinking. He also watched Steve a lot, he knew Steve noticed but he liked to pretend Steve didn’t. Steve was his link to his past, and the present. He made him remember things, and he needed his memories. To him they were  precious so he wrote them all down, even the things he was unsure of, so that if something ever happened he could have them all there to read. 

 

As much time as he spent looking at Steve, he also wondered what Steve was thinking about when he looked at him. The sadness in his eyes was pretty easy to identify, but there was something else that Bucky didn’t recognize. It was frustrating, he supposed he could ask but he still wasn’t up for talking. Bucky saw it in his eyes when he smiled at him, it looked like he was happy but more than happy. Which he didn’t understand why he was happy, why would he be? Bucky didn’t get it, why having him around made Steve happy.Especially when he had caused Steve so much pain. Bucky really didn’t understand Steve and it frustrated him a lot. He remembered how Steve used to frustrate him because he was too stubborn to back down from a fight.  He opened his journal again:

 

**Steve was too dumb to back down from a fight. Even when he couldn’t win.**

 

He shut it once more when he noticed Steve looking at him, he guessed they really spent a lot of time looking at each other. Bucky wondered if Steve would rather live with Sam, he’d probably be a better roommate. Sam came here a few days after Bucky had settled in. He was nice, and funny. Bucky had spoken to Sam, which he had no doubt bothered Steve. Sam had given him his phone number, and a card for the VA.  Bucky had no desire to speak to other war veterans, but he did call Sam sometimes. He decided he wanted to talk to Sam right now, so he got up and went to the office. Which wasn’t an office, it was Steve’s art room. He looked at the painting Steve was working on. It was his arm, his left one. He didn’t know why Steve wanted to paint it, but he did. He took out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. Before Sam could say anything Bucky spoke.

 

“I’m frustrated.” Bucky sighed, slumping down against the wall. 

 

“Well, hello to you to. Why are you frustrated?” Sam asked. Bucky ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Steve.” Bucky replied. 

 

“And why is that?” He heard Sam doing something in the background.

 

“I don’t understand him.” Bucky heard Sam laugh on the other end of the line, was it really funny?

 

“Have you tried speaking to him? You know, speaking does wonders for communication.” Sam said wryly. 

 

“No, I haven’t.” Bucky snapped.

 

“I bet if you did, things would be a lot easier.” Sam suggested.

 

“I can’t.” Bucky sighed.

 

“Yes, you can, you’re letting your fear get the best of you.” Bucky knew Sam was right.

 

“I don’t care.” Bucky was stubborn.

 

“You will have to talk to him eventually.” Again, Sam was correct.

 

“Deaf people don’t talk and they get on just fine.”  Bucky rested his head on his knees, this call has only made more angry.

 

“They use sign language.” Sam said flatly. 

 

“I know it upsets him.” Bucky hated himself for continuing to hurt Steve. 

 

“Then why don’t you stop avoiding it?” He could tell Sam was also getting frustrated. 

 

“What if I say something wrong?” Bucky asked.

 

“I promise you, Steve will not give a shit.” This made Bucky frown. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it would make him happy! God you’re so—“ Bucky hung up the phone. 

 

There was that word again. Happy. Why would he make Steve happy? His phone vibrated and he checked it. It was a text from Sam.  

 

_“You’re an idiot. Just speak to Steve already, he’s your friend. You spend too much time in your head. Oh and btw your welcome. You never call to ask how I am, and yet I always come to your rescue. When are you gonna start paying me for these therapy sessions?”_  

 

_“*You’re”_ Bucky sent back.

 

_“Fuck you.”_ Sam replied.

 

Bucky smiled and locked his phone, putting it back in his pocket. He knew Sam was right, things would probably be better if he spoke to Steve. He was afraid anything he’d say would just upset Steve. But not speaking to him also upset Steve. Either way he was upsetting Steve, which he didn’t enjoy. He decided he would speak to Steve, later. 

 

“Bucky? The foods here.” Steve called out. Bucky jumped, he hadn’t even heard door bell ring. He guessed he was just caught up in his thoughts. Perhaps Sam was right, maybe he did spend too much time in his head. He got up and walked into the kitchen. 

 

“You should’ve seen the poor kid when I opened the door. He nearly fainted.” Steve said when he saw Bucky walk into the room. 

 

“It’s not everyday you deliver pizza to Captain America.” Bucky had surprised himself, he hadn’t been planning on saying that. It just happened. Steve’s eyes widened and he paused for a moment. This made Bucky certain that he had made a mistake and he really shouldn’t have spoken to Steve, until Steve smiled at him with that more than happy look in his eyes. Bucky found himself smiling back.

 

“No, it isn’t.” Steve replied.

* * *

 

Steve had sat closer to him on the couch after Bucky had spoken to him. Bucky really didn’t mind though. Sam was right, it did make things better. Bucky was still frustrated, but for once Steve didn’t look as sad as he normally did. He still didn’t understand, but that was okay. He was kind of happy too. Still a little guilty though, he should’ve spoken to Steve sooner. 

 

He noticed Steve was getting tired, and Bucky was too. It reminded him of another thing that had been bothering him. When  Bucky got here Steve insisted that Bucky sleep in his bed, and Steve would sleep on the couch. Bucky had protested, well shook his head, he didn’t want to take Steve’s bed. That wasn’t what was bothering him now, though. It was that he knew they used to share a bed, before the war. They had too, plus Steve got cold and they never had heat. Once he remembered that, the space beside him on the bed felt wrong. He didn’t want to sleep alone. It made him uncomfortable that Steve was in the living room, it felt like he was too far away. Bucky knew at this point Steve could protect himself but he didn’t care. Bucky was frustrated about this too, until he realize he was talking to Steve now so he could ask. 

 

“Steve?” Bucky had spoken before he remembered he was about to ask Steve to sleep in the same bed as him, which might be weird. Bucky felt a stab of nervousness when Steve looked at him.

 

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve looked at him, waiting for him to respond. Bucky decided he dug himself into this hole so he may as well keep going. 

 

“Before the war… We shared a bed.” Bucky stated. Steve looked at him, probably waiting for him to elaborate, until he realized Bucky wasn’t going to. 

 

“Yeah, we did.” Steve looked nostalgic. 

 

“So then why do you sleep on the couch?” Bucky decided to just ask it flat out. Bucky didn’t like how long Steve was taking to respond. He’d probably assumed too much, why would Steve even want to share a bed with him?

 

“… Because I didn’t want you to sleep on the couch.” Steve said carefully. Bucky sighed and looked away. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. 

 

“Well, it probably isn’t comfortable, and  I mean if you wanted to, I’m okay with it. I mean we don’t have to I just thought—“ Bucky started to ramble and Steve interrupted him.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay with that. Are you sure?” Steve had an indecipherable look in his eyes. 

 

“I’m sure.” Bucky nodded.

 

“Okay.” Steve looked at him again, with that more than happy look in his eyes, and Bucky wished he could read Steve’s mind.

* * *

 

Bucky had gotten into bed and was writing in his journal when he felt Steve slide in next to him.

 

“Goodnight, Bucky.”  Steve said softly. Bucky wrote in his journal:

 

**We shared a bed. Steve got cold a lot, which wasn’t good. He was fragile.**

 

_ Steve used to take all the blankets (I didn’t mind) _

 

**I used to take care of him.**

 

**Sam was right, talking to Steve did make him happy**. He didn’t tell me it would make me happy too, but it did. 

 

Bucky shut his journal and turned off the lamp.

 

“Goodnight, Steve.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to finish this before civil war comes out so starting this week I'm gonna post updates every Wednesday and Saturday. Hopefully. So expect a new chapter this Wednesday (i've got my fingers crossed)

“Maybe it’s a dream; maybe nothing else is real

But it wouldn’t mean a thing if I told you how I feel 

So I’m tired of all the pain, all the misery inside

And I wish that I could live feeling nothing but the night”

* * *

 

Bucky woke up and slowly realized he was incredibly close to Steve. Bucky’s head was on Steve’s shoulder and one of Bucky’s hands was on Steve’s chest, Steve had one of his arms wrapped around Bucky. A warm feeling spread through his chest he felt almost relaxed except his heart was pounding. He felt like he should probably move, Steve would probably not be okay with this, but he honestly didn’t want to. This feeling was definitely happy. Bucky felt slightly guilty for pressing in closer to Steve but he felt warm and safe. Bucky’s heart stopped when he felt Steve move beneath him. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid, he should’ve just moved, how was he going to explain this to Steve?

 

“Oh, good morning Buck.” Steve said tiredly. Bucky relaxed slightly when Steve didn’t push him away.

 

“Good morning.” Bucky yawned in response, his hand curling into Steve’s shirt. Bucky sighed when Steve ran his fingers through his brown hair. Bucky felt emptiness creeping up on the happiness in his heart and he fought to push it back. He didn’t want this moment to be ruined. But perhaps he was being self indulgent.

 

“As nice as this is, I need to get up.” Steve said softly.

 

“No.” Bucky said flatly and not at all in a whiny way. Bucky slowly encroached over Steve. He felt Steve laugh under him and it made him smile. He knew that if they stayed like this it would ward off the depression he felt creeping over him. He didn’t want to let go of his happiness… Or Steve.

 

“Bucky.” Steve tried to sound scolding.

 

“Steve.” Bucky quipped back.

 

“Stop pouting.” Steve teased. Bucky didn’t respond, instead he just kicked Steve.

 

“Bucky!” Steve pushed on Bucky’s shoulders but Bucky just laughed. 

 

Steve sighed as his best friend slowly but surely wrapped his limps around him like an octopus. Bucky could still feel the numbness sinking its claws into him but it recoiled back as Steve held him in his arms. Bucky could hear his heart beat quickly and he wondered why it was doing that. He wondered why Steve was even letting him do this. He felt Steve’s arms tighten around him and he wondered, as he often did, what was going through Steve’s head. A feeling swelled in his chest and he couldn’t identify it. Bucky was caught off guard when Steve suddenly rolled him off of his chest. 

 

“You asshole.” Bucky frowned.

 

“Sorry, but I figured you really didn’t want me to pee on you.” Steve grinned at him.

 

“That’s kinky.” Bucky deadpanned. Steve rolled his eyes as he walked off into the  bathroom.

 

This left Bucky alone and the monster that had been waiting to pounce, engulfed him. He felt himself be drained, and he knew today was going to be one of those days. He had become accustomed to this numbness, that was only accompanied by a feeling of despair. Today, was going to be really bad, he knew because he didn’t even want to write in his journal. He looked up when Steve walked out of the bathroom and Steve smiled his sunbeam smile at him and had that more than happy look in his eyes. Bucky felt it pull at something in his chest, a dull ache. He felt tears fall down his face. Oh god, He’s a mess. Steve smiled at him, so he cried? Steve must hate him for being so fucked up he can’t even do anything right—

 

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” Steve immediately came back to bed. Bucky had no idea what to say. 

 

“I don’t know.” Bucky could feel the deep sadness blossom through his body and he fucking hated it. He buried his face into Steve’s pillow. Steve gently nudged him so that he could sit in bed beside him. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve whispered softly. Bucky didn’t dare look up because he knew that if he did that he’s see Steve looking at him all sad and he’d just feel even more guilty. 

 

“Bucky…” Steve gently tugged at Bucky’s shoulder.  Bucky scooted away.

 

“Bucky, Look at me.” Steve insisted softly. Bucky didn’t move.

 

“Bucky, please.” Steve said so gently that Bucky had to. He moved so that he could peak at Steve from where his face was in the pillow.

 

“It’s going to be okay.” Steve said it so earnestly and Bucky wanted to believe him so badly. Bucky pulled Steve down so he could be near him again. Steve immediately wrapped one arm around Bucky and ran his other hand through Bucky’s hair. Steve rested his hand on Bucky’s back and traced small circles. Bucky sighed and felt more tears fall out of his eyes, he wondered what the hell was wrong with him but he knew the answer was a lot of things. 

 

So Steve held him while Bucky felt the darkness swirl around his chest. He felt like he was muddled. Like maybe he was floating and those rumors might be true, maybe he was a ghost. Sometimes he really felt like one. Sometimes his life felt like a bleak black and white dream. But he knew it wasn’t, he knew his life was splattered in deep red blood. But his brain felt like gray sludge right now so he couldn’t really think. His head felt heavy and he could feel his eyes grow tired. He fell asleep without even realizing it.

 

* * *

 

He woke up and Steve wasn’t there and that immediately sent him floating off into a black sea of self-hatred and guilt. Of course he had left, he had better things to do than lay around and be depressed all day. He probably got tired of coddling Bucky and left. He probably resents Bucky for being such a burden. Bucky really thought, maybe, he should leave. But he knew he wouldn’t, not now. He jumped when Steve walked into the room.

 

“Oh good, you’re awake. I made you a sandwich, if you want to come get it.” Steve smiled at him. Bucky looked at him blankly and didn’t move. Steve waited a bit for Bucky to respond, but soon realized he wasn’t going to.

 

“You’re not gonna get up, are you?” Steve frowned. Bucky was still silent as he gathered up the blanket in his hand and pulled it over his head. He curled into a ball and faced away from Steve.

 

“You can’t stay in bed all day, you know.” Bucky heard Steve say as he left the room. Bucky didn’t want Steve to leave but perhaps it was best he did. He should just leave Bucky alone to suffer. But he didn’t he came back, Bucky heard him set down a glass of water. He felt the bed dip as Steve slid into it. He gripped the blanket tighter when he realized Steve was trying to take it off of him. Why wouldn’t he just go away? Bucky narrowed his eyes when Steve succeeded in wrestling the  blanket away from him.

 

“Come on. Sit up.” Steve poked him. Bucky didn’t move. 

 

“Barnes, I swear to god if you don’t sit up, I will make you.” Steve warned. Bucky really didn’t have enough energy to fight with Steve so he slowly sat up. 

 

He stared blankly at the sandwich Steve handed him but he wasn’t hungry at all. He really didn’t feel like putting in the effort to eat but he could feel Steve staring at him. Bucky felt slightly guilty that Steve went to the trouble of making him food so he took a bite. It was worth it when he glanced at Steve and saw him smile. A pang of the warmth he felt earlier spread through his veins but quickly faded. Bucky was once again frustrated about a lot of things. Like what was that this morning? Why had his heart beat so fast? Why did Steve put up with him? Why does Steve keep looking at him with that stupid look in his eyes? And why was he so fucking useless he couldn’t even stay happy for more than two-seconds without crashing down into a deep depression? Bucky ate half of the sandwich then handed it back to Steve. Steve took it and handed him the glass of water, which he drank all of.

 

“Are you done?” Steve asked. Bucky nodded. 

 

 Steve took the sandwich and the glass back into the kitchen. Bucky slid back down into bed and sighed. He felt exhausted even though he hadn’t done anything at all that day. Bucky was vaguely aware he had to pee, but he was so tired and heavy he didn’t want to move. He debated with himself for a couple of minutes before deciding to go to the bathroom. Bucky finished and looked at himself in the mirror as he walked out. He looked like he was dead. Which he was, but only on the inside. His hair was messy and his eyes were red and puffy. Bucky frowned at himself in the mirror, he was disgusting. He pulled the long sleeve of his shirt further down his metal arm and frowned. He turned off the light and left. 

 

He got back into bed and hid in the blanket. He felt Steve get back in the bed so he looked over. He was reading a book. Steve caught him looking so Bucky quickly turned back over and pulled the blanket back over his head. Why would Steve want to sit in here with him? Was it pity? He curled in tighter around himself as a wave a self hatred washed over him. He really hated this, sometimes he just wanted to be normal. Then things would be easier for Steve and he wouldn’t have to put up with a broken ex-assassin sleeping in his bed all day instead of being productive. 

 

The rest of the day was a blur of empty sadness. He floated in and out of existence. His head felt like it was full of mud and he slid in and out of consciousness. He had no idea what time it was or even how much time had passed. His thoughts blurred together and sometimes he just stared at the ceiling. Sometimes he drowned in his thoughts about how useless he was and how Steve only let him stay here because he missed his old friend, but he wasn’t even his old friend anymore, so it must just be pity. Steve was there the entire time, just sitting next to him. Sometimes Steve got up to do something but he always came back. He didn’t try and force Bucky to talk or do anything. Except eat, but Bucky refused after the first sandwich. He didn’t understand why Steve was so nice to him, after everything. 

 

It was late evening before Bucky felt slightly lucid again.

 

“Hey Steve?” Bucky looked over at his reading friend. Steve jumped slightly, not expecting the noise.

 

“Yeah Buck?” Steve smiled at him and Bucky felt warm again.

 

“I’m sorry for wasting your day. You didn’t have to stay in here with me.” Bucky looked away. Steve reached out and clasped his hand over Bucky’s.

 

“Don’t apologize, I wanted to stay in here with you. We all have bad days, and I didn’t want you to be alone.” Steve squeezed his hand lightly and without thinking about it Bucky laced their fingers together. Steve was looking more than happy again. Bucky wondered what Steve felt to make him look like that. 

 

"You’re such a sap.” Bucky grinned lightly. 

 

“One of us has to be.” Steve retorted and Bucky smiled wider. 

 

“Come here you punk.” Bucky sat up and pulled Steve against him. He hugged Steve tightly, wrapping his arms around him. He felt Steve chuckle as he returned the gesture. 

 

“…Thank you.” Bucky whispered. 

 

“You’re welcome.” Steve replied. Bucky felt some of his sadness let up and be replaced by the warm happiness he felt earlier. He couldn’t help but feel lucky. What would he do without Steve Rogers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was too depressed to write in his journal today. Poor Bucky. The lyrics at the beginning are once agin from Bad Apple.

**Author's Note:**

> the quote at the beginning is also from the song "Bad Apple"


End file.
